There and Back Again
by stolen with the night
Summary: There he was ready to accept his departure to the dying lands when he wakes fifty years old again and a naked as the day he was born baby Frodo by his side with all ten little fingers. Bilbo is going to make everything right for his new son, that means he doesnt have time for meddlesome wizards and dragons or even dwarrow Kings that his foolish old heart still yearns for even now
1. Welcome Back

**Hi everyone! So i recently read "A shot in the Dark"by silverpup and fell in love with the idea of the fic and so i decided to take a shot in the dark my self (sorry i couldnt help myself) I sincerely hope you like it :)**

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**Chapter One: There and Back Again**

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Bilbo had never felt so rested as he did in this one moment. It didn't matter that he had last fallen asleep in the freshly made beds of the last homely home under the care of his old friend and elven lord and now rested upon grass who's blades tickled against his skin. It didn't matter that it had been uncharacteristically raining and the patter patters of water meeting solids that lulled him last asleep were now replaced with the warm rays of sun now caressing his face.

What did matter to his sleep fogged mind however, was the sound of a small child gurgling straight into his sensitive pointed ears and depositing drops of what he imagined was saliva into his hair. With great reluctance Bilbo opened his eyes, wincing when the light streamed directly into them, temporarily blinding him. After a moment of letting his adjust Bilbo swerved to his left to look upon the disturber of his sleep, his hazed mind not taking in his surroundings.

Bright blue eyes of pure innocence and wonder blinked up at him happily under a mop of dark curls, a tiny toothless grin stretched upon drool covered lips of a rose shade. Bilbo blinked and then again before feeling the wind rush from him in a great heave.

_No...it couldn't possibly be..._

"Frodo?" His voice trembled with uncertainty and the glass of sleep shattered witching his mind as the little hobbitling grew excited at the mention of his name.

Bilbo looked around, his surroundings now clear to him. There in front of him lay fields upon fields of green pasture and the occasional group of flowers of every colour. Panic set in and Bilbo, realising where he was scooped up the now young Frodo into his arms ignoring the happy squeal and ran towards his home in Bag-end.

"Don't you worry Frodo. We'll get you back to normal in no time." He whispered soothingly to the bouncing babe who didn't in the least look anything akin to unhappy.

While sprinting through the fields of green, not once did Bilbo ponder upon the fact that he was running, much less even walking. His creaky old back did not protest and the pain in his feet did not once appear. He never looked at the hands that held the child dearly to his chest, no longer withered with age. Or that his eyes now saw the world with perfect clarity, too focused was he on returning the boy who was like a son to him to his former height.

Bilbo ignored the stares he received as he all but pounced up the hill to his home before screeching to a halt as he noticed something. Frodo bounced unhappily as the ride came to a standstill.

(Somethings not right) he thought as he peered at what should have been a round door with faded paint and odd symbol carved into its wood. Instead it stood proudly with fresh paint and recently polished brass handles. With caution he stepped through the threshold only to be greeted with a doily on every shelf along with never before lit candles and pressed flowers sitting in frames. No where could he see the books upon books of herbs and riddles, no maps and small weaponry littered the tables and the scent of parchment and ink was now replaced with the scent of lemon and bread.

_It's as if nothing happened. Like it was before...before..._

Bilbo closed the door behind him and fearfully trudged to the mirror that stood at the end of his hall. What he saw inside nearly had him sobbing. Young, bright eyes looked into his reflection. He was young again, just out his majority he would say. Snow white hair had returned to their honey curls and wrinkled skin had smoothed out. His skin was pale, having lost the tan gained from many an adventure.

Frodo seeing the fear on his face trembled before his small body heaved with sobs. Bilbo Crawford him near trying to overcome his own shock. "Oh my dear boy, hush Frodo. All is well, all is well."

When Frodo's tears subsided and Bilbos own shock became less he pulled back his nephew, no, son to look at him. "Look at you, I quite forgot how handsome you are. All the hobbit lasses will jealous of those lashes I am sure." He said with a chuckle. "Why don't we get something to eat hmm. Can't think on an empty belly."

Frodo waved his hands happily with a gurgle as Bilbo made his way into the kitchen area. Opening his store-room he searched for a recently garnered pale of goats milk- if he had any. When he found one, he quickly made sure it wasn't spoilt before placing it in a small cup and adding a teaspoon of butter and honey to sweeten it. Dipping his pinky into the liquid he let Frodo suckle on it to have a feel for the taste.

When Frodo made a happy sound from the back of his throat he smiled warmly at the hobbit kit. "I'll have to get us a proper bottle for you huh. And clothes now that we...oh Eru, now that we are...here..." He couldn't say it. That he had gone back more than fifty years into the past.

"How is it that you exist?" He asked his kit not exactly expecting an answer back. He knew Frodo had yet to be born yet in this time, so why was he sitting in his arms as naked as the day he was born?

Frodo pouted, annoyed that the fingers feeding him had been taken away and as he tried to capture the larger hands for himself Bilbo noticed all ten fingers present on those chubby hands and the no longer present haunted look in those sky blue eyes.

Dipping his pinky in the milk again he feed Frodo once more. "I'll make it better Frodo. _Adar_ will make it all better." Bilbo promised as a small smile lit up his kits face.

How long did he have to change the fate of an entire world and his beautiful little boy? He didnt care what he had to do his Frodo deserved more than he got in the last round and was as sure as the evening star that he would change it all for the better for his kit.

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_**Riddle me this- If you break me, i'll not stop working. If you can touch me, my work is done. If i stolen from you, you will live and if i am taken from you, you will die. What am I?**_

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**Done! This is a starting chapter so it is short and the next will be longer. Also, if there are other fics out there like Silverpups please let me know so i can read them! I've only ever read the one like it but im sure there are more.**

**Thankyou for reading,**

**Stolen.**


	2. For my Son

**Warnings- **_Canon Divergence, Eventual Bagginshield with a hint of Hobbit/other-dwarf loving, Adorable Frodo, Crazy fangirl of a writer, ect. Oh and somewhat AU at points, not to mention the screwing of timelines (Frodo anyone? and others...)_

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**Authors Note-** _This Chapter has not been approved by my new Beta Kaseytrue. However, since I couldn't get in contact with her before I ran off for a much needed holiday I decided to post this chapter anyway, (my dear lady please don't hate me.) None the less, she should be thanked profoundly. Also, thank you to everyone that favourited, followed and reviewed, your love is much appreciated. I apologize for any mistakes made._

**Chapter Summary- **_In which Bilbo Baggins may or not inspire unwavering loyalty in his race, Frodo is adorable and hiding something between him and his drool and inability to speak and Gandalf is a meddler that Bilbo likes to outmanouver._

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**Chapter 2: Of Wizards, Family and uninvited Guests**

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**(1)**

Hobbits, by nature, were not creatures of secretive behavior nor of shutting themselves inside while there were rays of sunshine beaming down from the sky but then again, no hobbit had disappeared one day and came back the next with a small hobbit kit and a change of personality. However, Hobbits were in fact, nosy creatures and this was a fact Bilbo quickly grew to hate. That's to say it didn't take long for the whole of the Shire to cease from asking about the child now known as Frodo because despite the new mystery surrounding the owner of Bag-End, he was still an upstanding Hobbit.

No other Hobbit would admit to the churning guilt they would feel when asking about the mother of the kit only to be answered with saddened eyes and a gently whispered 'gone' so instead they didn't ask. Not that none of them didn't stop thinking about it.

Their guilt served them well to make sure every need of the kit and his father were met only to end up endearing themselves to the wonderful and happy child and his equally blessed father and Bilbo Baggins became a household name within two months. A respected Hobbit, for his manners, upbringing, title and gentle yet fiery way of stance. Even if said hobbit did on _occasion _look beyond the hills of Hobbiton to the great beyond with something akin to longing, they tended to ignore this.

So when walking towards the market within the Shire, a humming Bilbo and out of tune singing Frodo Baggins received many call outs along with many a hobbit attempting to make the young kit smile.

"Evenin' Baggins Sir. Enjoyin' th' mornin' sun?" Grolo, a farmer hobbit asked happily, his voice gruff with age.

Bilbo smiled as he adjusted his son on his hip, tilting his head to the side to avoid chubby and snatching hands that had recently found a fascination with hair. "Ah, Grolo. Yes, the sun and your fine cabbages my good gentlehobbit."

A bashful Grolo lowered his head with a tip of his straw hat. "Arg, enough you ol' flatterer. Take yer cabbages an' be gone." He picked up the cabbages before placing them in the younger hobbits flaxen basket as Bilbo laughed. "Don't yer be like yah Pop, lil' Frodo. Too much greasin' in this one hobbit."

Bilbo could only laugh more, a gentle brassy tone as his Kit stuck his fist into his mouth to suckle on all the while looking so adorably confused, his brow crinkled and nose lightly scrunched up. The expression igniting an odd urge in Bilbo's chest and he promptly dropped the basket he held to the ground so he could lift his kit from his hip to swing him around in the air. Delighting in the sweet giggles and screeches of his son Bilbo rushed in to pepper his face with small kisses as Frodo batted his face away only to end up warmly snuggled into his fathers chest where he sighed contently causing Bilbo to let out another body rumbling laugh.

All around them hobbit lasses cooed over the affectionate display as other kits rushed forward so they too could have a turn at being swung around through the air. Their mothers titting disapprovingly at the almost adventurous display.

Bilbo knew something was just the slightest bit off about his new kit. Frodo had never been this lean, his hair this dark, his eyes this piercing shade of blue, his skin so translucent but there was denying this small hobbitling was his Frodo, change in appearance or not. Often it had him wondering if the rumor of his ancestors marrying a faerie had some truth to it when Frodo would look at his father and his eyes sparkle that tiny bit with knowledge unknown to the older hobbit.

Despite the calm yet bubbly nature of his kit Frodo was still just that, a kit, thus he was still prone to the troubles of his problematic infant days. This meant Frodo was teething. At nights his kit would thrash silently and upon the morrow Bilbo would be ridden with anxiety after the discovery of a fever. Bilbo had scooped his son up and ran to the nearest hobbit with experience meaning his ever faithful Gardener and wife, the Gamgees. The lovely couple having had children of their own (having not yet produced Samwise) had given the worried gentlehobbit a mixture of herbs that produced a soothing gel to rub along the kits gums and Frodo's irritable moods lessened.

"All right, all right. You all get a turn." Bilbo yelled out with a laugh as hobbit kits swarmed around his feet in an effort to be the first to fly. His own Kit merely sitting on the grass covered ground, a thumb in his smiling mouth, blue eyes sparkling with warmth and just that small bit of confusion that was often on his face.

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**(2)**

Meanwhile a certain meddling wizard dressed solely in grey walked through the twisted roads of the Shire intent on getting to the largest home in the county that sat upon the hill furthest to the right of the market square, the home of Bungo Baggins and the adventurous Belladonna Took, current dwelling place of Bilbo Baggins.

He happily ignored or was simply oblivious of the many heated glares being sent his way. Outsiders were generally not appreciated among the Hobbits especially one that had been inquiring as to the where abouts of one of their more esteemed members of their community. Gandalf himself had expected the hobbit to be at home this one Sunday morning, sitting outside with a pipe in hand enjoying his predictable life. Then Gandalf would have waltzed in with all the spontaneity a wizard could have, up heaved the hobbit and whisked him away on an adventure after some convincing, that's generally how it went.

However, things had not gone to plan with said hobbit not present and the little time he had remaining so he was forced to simply leave his mark on the door and make his leave not knowing two pairs of remarkably loyal eyes were watching his every move waiting for him to leave so they could spring from their spot and track down the owner of Bag-End.

"Oi you! What, prey tell, are you doing loitering on cousin Bilbo's land?" A decidedly grumpy teenage hobbit yelled from a few paces ahead of the now surprised wizard, having not heard the boy approach.

The hobbit lad stood rather tall for his age and race, his flaxen hair in tight curls that framed a tanned face holding dark, almost black eyes that narrowed suspiciously on the grey wizard. His body clothed in fine velvet of deep green edged with fine gold stitching and behind him stood two older hobbits clothed in equally fine material. The hobbit that stood on the boys left wore burgundy and brown and seemed to be in his majority, his face smiling lightly while his eyes remained open with a steely glint hiding beneath the surface. The hobbit on the lads right moved slightly forward in what seemed to be a protective move. This hobbit was obviously older than the other two, dressed in simple dark grey linen that also spoke of quality but what was most noticeable were the two medium length feathers placed upright in his hair and what looked to be a dagger hidden in his sleeve.

"The young Master has asked a question wizard." Came the low voice of the last hobbit while the youngest tapped his large hair covered foot against the ground in agitation.

Gandalf was rather thrown off at the amount of animosity that was being sent his way but decided to be as cordial as possible with what seemed to be a fighter among the hobbits -and wasn't that a first?! "I mean no harm my good Hobbits, I am simply here to have a word with the current owner of Bag-End. He is not home at the moment I'm afraid."

If anything, his lack of introduction only seemed to make all three hobbits tense further and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered when his favorite race became so...willing to fight for lack of better wording.

"And what words would you have to say to Master Baggins, Wizard?" The feathered hobbit interrogated as the second eldest, clad in burgundy watched with sharp eyes, light smile still in place and the youngest seemed content to let the protective hobbit do his piece.

"A proposition of sorts, one of the highest confidentiality. I am Gandalf the Grey, a friend of Bilbo Baggins mother, Belladonna." Gandalf saw no reason to lie but in the end thought it best to stick to what he did best, never give straight answers as he introduced himself at last.

The youngest stopped his irritated tapping and gave him a once over. "We are aware of who you are Gandalf." He said in what would be considered a sardonic tone before continuing. "Belladonna has long since passed and her son is young enough to have only the barest of memories of you, still, I wonder, if Bilbo Baggins is not present then why did you see it fit to deface his door?" He asked in a near growling tone.

"Deface his door? I don't quite know of what you speak lad." Clearly, by the unimpressed looks he was being sent, even by the one clad in burgundy, he was not believed and without so much as a by-your-leave he decided it was best to clear himself of the area and the three hobbits let him lumber past, eyes burning intensely on his grey covered back.

Once more Gandalf wondered when Hobbits became so...battle ready.

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**(3)**

"Halefror." Isengar called the bounder and personal guard as he watched the troublesome wizard walk away whistling an infuriating tune. His young cousin Sigismond watching too with a glare, most likely waiting for the wizard to spontaneously com-bust in a parade of dancing flames much like the fireworks wizard had a tendency to sell. He had no doubt that the Took blood in him would have him laugh like a madman at the jig the wizard would do in order to take the flames out. Maybe he would offer to throw ice cold water on him- to assist him, of course.

"Yes Master Isengar?" The loyal guard asked awaiting an order, all too ready to carry it out.

"This wizard is the one who takes off with hobbits on dangerous adventures, is he not?" He asked despite already knowing the answer to his question, it was all too obvious.

Even Sigismond who was young and prone to agitated outburst when the health and safety of his family was compromised stayed still, unwilling to do anything on the off chance his older cousin would return with the wizard still present, he would do nothing to prevent or stilt the magic mans disappearance.

The bounder nodded in confirmation causing the usually smiling hobbit to sigh. "Well then, I think it best we have a little chat with cousin Bilbo, warn him of the pest that seems to have taken an _interest _in him."

"No need, it appears the gardening family have already rushed off to inform Master Bilbo of his wayward visitor." The bounder, Halefror, pointed out to two hobbits rushing in the direction of the market place. Their legs swift and big feet making hardly a sound as they brushed against the grass covered ground.

Sigismond cocked his head to the side, his flaxen hair standing out against the deep green of his jacket. "Are those the Gamgee children?"

Sigismond despite his temper was a smart hobbit. Perhaps not as smart as Isengar who could pick apart a hobbit in a matter of seconds, see them down to the core and know their darkest of secrets, still Sigismond knew _people. _He was the one who Isengar preferred to travel with because quite frankly, having the hobbit cousin who knew _practically everyone _was a far cry from the worst, not to mention his unfaultable loyalty to his family. Because even though the main clans of the Shire prized family, Sigismond was something else entirely and his love for his older cousin Bilbo was borderline worship.

Suffice to say, Sigismond already knew those were the Gamgee children and didn't need the confirmation of the other two hobbits present.

"Good." He nodded. "Gamgee's have a lot of stamina."

"Perhaps it would be best to step inside the hallways of Bag-end, Masters." Halefror, the ever paranoid bounder _suggested_ softly.

Both Sigismond and Isengar nodded their approval and moved to enter Bag-end, Halefror entering first in the case of an intruder and when the all clear signal was given the two cousins entered. The first entering while glaring at the carved symbol on the freshly painted round door, the second giving it cursory glance while running through every rune he knew of, none of which matched the one his cousin of equal age now had rather permanently unless he choose to replace his door.

Looking around Isengar noted the changes within the walls of Bag-end. Maps and books now lined the sills of the home where once sat flower pots and knitting materials. The smell of ink and what might have been milk and jasmine permeated the air and what looked to be children's toys scattered the floor. Beyond this though, Bag-End still retained it's elegance.

The glass chandelier above their heads in the entrance hall still twinkled brightly and the copper and brass fixtures lining all the walls remained polished. The lovely dark oak of which the large hobbit home was made of looked to be lacquered and as Isengar moved it looked as if the wood were water rippling gently. Large windows let warm yellow light stream through in copious amounts. Vases were now placed high up and the library still held large bookshelves placed against every wall, only now not a single space could be seen in their shelves and not a single speck of dust could be seen on their books. Large leather couches and chairs now sat in the library in a half circle around the large terracotta fireplace and one against the red and yellow stained glass depicting a swarm of colorful birds ready to fly away from their nests and into the great blue sky.

The parlor that was built more for comfort than elegance was still pleasing to the eye with light blue cushioned seats in a large circle with small white wire tables beside every third seat or in front. Another fireplace and chandelier situated the room as numerous windows lined the walls to let in natural light as the parlor was the room in which guests were meant to be entertained. The room was clean but it was obviously not used much, the paintings of some of his ancestors that hung on the patterned walls held light layers of dust.

Isengar explored more as he entered the dining room next. Compared to the rest of the house the dining room was relatively simple with it's dark oak fourteen seat table that was covered with pieces of parchment and a single vase filled with pansies. A simple light fixture hung above it with twenty-seven unlit candles in their holders. Beyond that their lay two glass cabinets that held different variants of fine china.

The kitchen was another story entirely, herbs of every kind grew from pots that lined every window sill and spices in large jars could be seen everywhere the eye darted, it was a large room with counters and islands. A large terracotta oven was at the furthest ends to the cool box and the food cellar on the east side and the descending pair of steps to its left that might have been the wine cellar.

And perhaps the most beautiful room in the household was the conservatory whose roof and walls were made of glass meant to offer a clear view of the stars at night. Flowers and benches crowded the room that served also as the observatory for the lone stargazer that sat at the far end. Despite his preference, Isengar could see that the study was the most loved by his cousin; not that he had entered any of the bedrooms.

It was the most lived in, with open and marked books, half drank cups of milk and a foot stool that had been dragged in. Pots of ink sat in crowds on a mahogany desk opposite another window and melted candles dotted the place. All in all, Bag-End was a large and beautiful hobbit home fit for a pre-wedding present of sorts to the third youngest daughter of the previous Thain and younger sister to the current Thain. If it had been anything less, his uncle would have dragged the Baggins back to Tokburogh hall to live, kicking and screaming. Sure it was no Tokburough or even Brandy Hall but it was beautiful in it's own way.

Just as Isengar was about to turn and leave the room his sharp eyes caught sight of a small cradle in the corner of the room and instantly made the connection with the children's toys he had spotted earlier. The toys could be written off as another kits but a cradle was a long term fixture. Had his cousin gone and had a child in the decade and a half since he had seen him last? He had heard not a peep from his Baggins cousin since naught but a few years ago.

"Isengar, it appears cousin Bilbo is more Took than he appears." Sigismond chortled as he fingered a short dagger without a sheath, twirling it around his fingers, the metal of its blade sharpened and glittering dangerously, clearly well taken care of.

Halefror gently took the weapon from his youngest charge to examine it. "It is well made." He hummed thoughtfully, "Not of dwarven make nor of the men, perhaps the elves? Though I wouldn't know of where Master Baggins would acquire it."

The bounder balanced the short dagger on two fingers. "Very balanced, not very heavy either, it would not do much damage for a dagger but still...a beautiful and well crafted weapon."

"Why thank you." An amused voice said from behind the large bounder.

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**(4)**

Bilbo saw it as stamina training of sorts, it was the only way he could really look at it, his arms aching slightly and the barest hints of sweat could be seen on his brow because despite them being light, hobbit kits came in the quantity. Because when a hobbit has a family, Eru did they have a family. Kind of like rabbits.

He didn't know how many children he had hoisted in the air but dear deities above, they had clearly multiplied while he had looked to the sky. Around him other hobbits were shooting him almost smug smiles as if to say, _your fault._ And maybe it was but no one could deny hobbit kits because if Elves were the most beautiful of races, the hobbit children were the cutest, especially those of the Took and Brandybuck line who had on more than one occasion added a elf into the family, the result being a line of fair faced hobbits. Though this was also to blame for the sheer oddness that came with them. Bilbo, naturally, accepted his oddness if his looks were slightly boosted but honestly, Frodo was like a sprite of a child. He would be batting of suitors for years to come if those pink cheeks and blue eyes had something to say about it.

"Mister Bilbo! Mister Bilbo!"

Placing yet another kit down he watched as both Hamson and Daisy Gamgee, yet-to-be-born Samwise's older siblings, practically flew through the set up stalls to reach him. Panting and keeling over when they were close enough, words spewing out of their lips before they could even breathe properly.

Kneeling in front of them, Bilbo placed a hand on each of their hearts almost recoiling at the rapid drumming under his palms. "There there, Hamson, Daisy, catch your breath first." He cooed soothingly as he rubbed circles on their backs.

The parents of the surrounding hobbit kits recognizing that something had happened rushed to take their children in their arms, giving the Master of Bag-End room to attend to the older children.

Seeing their breathing even out slightly Bilbo stopped his ministration to place a comforting hand on their shoulders. "Now do you want to tell my you were in such a rush?" He asked keeping his voice calm on the off chance he scare the poor children.

"The-there's a wizard at your house Mister Bilbo!" Daisy piped up between pants.

Around them the older hobbits gasped in outrage and Bilbo would have laughed, if he hadn't frozen himself in shock. Because, honestly, he should have known. How on earth could he have forgotten? Hadn't he told the exact same story over and over and over again to many hobbit kits that wanted to know. The story of a company of dwarves, of a burglar, a wizard, of adventure, gold and dragons, of war, of death, of love lost and unrecognized. He wanted to throw himself off a cliff because how could he have _forgotten _even for a _single second._ It was a story- a time in his life- he had obsessed over, wanting to forget, wanting to _relive, _wanting so badly to laugh over, cry over, scream over, wanting to _sink into eyes of steel that never felt, _needing with life conviction to _touch, _to _feel, _to _breathe _and _drown _in-

A tugging on his curls and Bilbo was suddenly looking into bright, blue, innocent eyes. Dear Eru _eyes that had never seen war _and he knew, no matter what, that his baby, his kit, his child, his Frodo, could not live through that again. It didn't matter that his traitorous heart wanted to run from these fields and track down that meddlesome wizard and demand he take him to _his_ King under the Mountain and his old, dear, _dead_\- alive- friends, the consequences be damned. None of that mattered when his son looked into his eyes was all he could see was pure love and happiness and he could honestly say with all his black heart that he would throw himself on a blade before he let his beautiful boy suffer from the after affects of that war again. He wouldn't panic, he couldn't, his son relied on him.

"Tell me more Daisy." He ordered the child gently as he wrapped his arms around Frodo to pull him against his chest in a calming embrace, more for himself than his child.

The girl nodded. "A wizard came and three gentlehobbits! The gentlehobbits scared him away, one of them wore feathers and then they talked some and then they went into Bag-End."

"Yeah!" Hamson cut in with a large smile. "Their clothes looked pretty! I bet they have lots of money to buy lots of exotic cakes and muffins." Hamson finished off dreamily as his sister licked her lips clearly indulging in the same fantasy. Bilbo didn't need to be the Lady of Light to know what they were thinking of.

Bilbo laughed as he gestured merrily to the children he stood before and spoke to the crowd now surrounding them. "Then there is nothing to fear, these gentlehobbits have scared this wizard away. Let us be done with this."

He honestly doubted that an entire worlds worth of hobbits would stop that one particular wizard from doing what ever it is that he wanted, but he digressed.

Around him the hobbits sighed in relief while the young kits just looked dearly confused. "Now I think it best to return to Bag-End to greet my visitors." Bilbo said aloud only for the crowd of hobbits to part to form a pathway for Frodo and him.

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**(5)**

Bilbo watched in slight surprise as what looked to be a bounder roaming the hallways of Bag-End, Frodo already asleep his cheek pressed against the side of his fathers neck remained silent save for his light snores and occasional mumbles in his own special baby language.

Bounders with the exception of the twelve Sherriffs were the only means of protection the Shire had. They doubled as border patrol, guards and wardens, they were also the only hobbits that were trained with weapons. It was rare to see one however, during the day when the weren't on the outskirts of the Shire or around Tokborough or Brandy Hall protecting the Thain.

Bilbo stared amused as he finally caught sight of the two other hobbits that the unknown bounder accompanied, who would it be but his cousins Isengar and Sigismond. Two members of the Took clan that he hadn't seen or heard of in what was almost seventy years although for them it was most likely only less or maybe more than a decade since they last saw each other.

He had been rather close to Sigismond before he had disappeared entirely. Bilbo himself had thought his younger cousin to be dead, he had silently mourned for him. Isengar on the other hand he was not close to, his former Baggins way of life had him difficult to be around for Isengar, he vaguely remembered, still Isengar valued family almost as much as Sigismond and kept close and now here they were. With a bounder no less.

Deciding to follow around the bounder as silently as possible, which of course was just silent as hobbits were quiet as it were and Bilbo had been practicing non-stop thanks to his kit who during his teething stage would wake at the drop of a pin. He laughed silently as the bounder evaluated one of the many light weighted daggers he had hid away and thanked him when he complimented the craftsmanship of his weapon only to see the bounder startle and as if on instinct reach for his own long dagger hidden in his sleeve and freeze when he laid his eyes upon the hobbit who startled him.

"You move swiftly Master Baggins." The bounder complimented him with a small incline of his head.

Bilbo let out a quick chortle. "My thanks, bounder."

"Cousin Bilbo!" Sigismond yelled happily, looking as if he were seconds away from throwing himself on the older hobbit only to pause. "You have a kit?...How come I wasn't invited to the wedding?!"

Isengar placed a light hand upon the pouting hobbits shoulder. "Enough Sigismond, you will wake the child. I apologize for the out of the blue visit, Cousin Bilbo, but there is much to be discussed."

Bilbo smiled, Isengar had always been of pleasant manners. The perfect hobbit to have around polite company, he would, no doubt, charm all those around him with his sharp mind and deceptively soft smile. "Of course, let me put down my Frodo and we can go to the parlor to speak."

"That sounds perfect!" Sigismond agreed, happy to comply with whatever his older cousin suggested.

Bilbo could feel their eyes follow him as he placed his son in his cradle before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. Turning around he nodded to the bounder and his family members and led them to the parlor, gesturing for them to sit, waiting for them to become comfortable before speaking. "I suppose this has something to do with the bounder."

Isengar nodded, an appreciative smile on his lips. "You are correct cousin." He paused looking the slightest bit hesitant. "You are aware that our grandfather Geronitius, the former Thain had passed to the great halls some years ago."

"Yes. I attended his festival of leaving." Bilbo barely remembered the festival the was held for the passing of the Old Took's soul.

What he could remember of it came in bursts of color, music, wine, food, laughter and tears. He could remember old hobbits crowding around as they told stories of the former Thains life as a wayward child. He could remember family members crying painfully before laughing because that was what Geronitius would have wanted and he could remember chanting as hobbits came forward to give speeches and drink to the wonderful hobbits full and happy life and he could remember his grandmother Adamanta Grubb looking so sad yet willing to stride forward and celebrate.

"Then you would know his wife, our grandmother Adamanta took on the position of Thain and she has done wonderfully to keep the entirety of the Shire running and it's economy above the ground." Isengar paused once more, seemingly trying to find the words to continue on with.

It was Sigismond who spoke. "Grandmother is growing old and last fall she was hit with a fever. We had thought it would pass but healers predicted she would not survive it." His younger cousin now practically whispered and Bilbo felt sadness swell within him.

"They were right of course." Isengar picked up again. "She now lies on her death bed, with but days to live, her final wish to have her family near. That and we would need all heads and prominent figures of the main clans to be there to witness the handing over of the title of Thain."

Bilbo nodded stiffly. "I see. I..._naethen. _You have my sorrow."

"She is as much family to you as us cousin Bilbo." Sigismond said, sympathy and sadness touching his own voice as it trembled the slightest bit prompting Bilbo to wrap his arms around his younger cousin comfortingly, all while shooting his other family member a look of understanding.

"I will come."

"Thank you." Isengar spoke with relief. "This is Halefror, one of the bounders that will guard us on our short journey." He introduced the silent bounder.

"Now tell me of this kit of yours." His cousin requested, his smile back in place.

Bilbo heartened dramatically, more than ready to regal them with stories of his son but unwilling to distract himself. "You will learn of Frodo first hand on the journey. However, there is more important things to discuss, namely the open invitation left on my door courtesy of one grey wizard."

Halefror leaned forward, clearly puzzled. "Open invitation, Master Baggins?"

"Just Bilbo, Halefror, you are not much older than I." Bilbo requested before waving a flippant hand in the air. "Yes, open invitation. I don't know who it is the wizard invited into my house but they will be coming."

"How dare he!" Sigismond spluttered in outrage, his tanned hands curling into white fists as he leaped from his place, always the first to resort to violence. "How dare that-that-that _wizard!_" His face contorting angrily as his skin steadily became a fiery red.

Bilbo wouldn't admit to wanting to laugh at the way his little cousin spat out the word 'wizard' as if it were the foulest thing to touch his tongue and it was clear from the shining eyes of both Isengar and Halefror that they too found Sigismonds protective way of his family absolutely adorable. Maybe not adorable, perhaps that was Bilbo's old age shining through. These days he seemed to think anything, anyone did that was even remotely domestic was too cute for words, though nothing compared to his son. He wasn't biased in the least.

Despite the mirth shining in his eyes, Halefrors next words were serious. "I can have leave a few bounders to guard your home Master Bilbo."

Bilbo not so subtly rolled his eyes at the only slightly less formal addressing. "No, I doubt Gandalf would have told my _guests _either." Because really, the dwarrowmen hadn't known that Bilbo had no idea as to why they had suddenly appeared on his door step the first time round. Come to think of it, he hadn't even mentioned it, so caught up in their adventure was he.

"Then what shall you do cousin?" Isengar asked calmly.

Bilbo huffed. "Honestly! We are hobbits and if there is any race that is welcoming it is the hobbits and though I wont be there to accommodate them, they shall be treated to the full course of hobbit hospitality. Even the wizard."

"Hobbit hospitality ae? I don't like it." Sigismond growled with a stamp of his large foot.

Of course he didn't. But what his little cousin did not know was that his company of dwarves- no he hadn't felt a stab in is heart when he had thought it- were a bunch of paranoids when it came to good behavior. A town of welcoming halflings and a missing but still accommodating host would set their nerves on fire. He wanted to cackle but looking crazy in front of his family was not a good idea. Not to mention Bilbo found himself giddy at the prospect of outmaneuvering _the _Gandalf the Grey.

"Sig, enough. What our cousin does with his guests is not anything of our concern." Despite his words, Isengar had a mischief twinkle in his eyes, almost as if he could read Bilbo's very thoughts and wasn't that scary?

* * *

**(6)**

It hadn't taken long for Bilbo to convince his fellow hobbits to play along in his little farce, a few words here and a few charismatic smiles thrown there and hobbits of every age within an hour or two had been piling in and out of his house to deposit a plate or two on his table. Fungus Chubb, son of the recently retired Bayard Chubb, who owned the local hobbit pub had come rolling kegs filled with hobbit ale of every kind they currently had available with a mischievous smile half threatening to take over his face.

"These guests of yours better know how to appreciate some fine mead!" Fungus crowed with a laugh, not in the least upset. In fact, Bilbo would say he was happy to be doing business outside of his little, well, business.

"I'm sure they will." He responded with a placid smile only to be clapped on the back and sent reeling forward from the sheer power in the familiar gesture. Hobbits around them laughed at the unusual display of gracelessness that seemed to accompany the master of Bag-End these day, the laughter spurring Frodo to giggle too, even though he appeared to not understand why they were laughing.

Two bottles of red wine were artistically placed on a side table next to a crystal goblet, a small note tacked to the front that simply read 'Master Wizard.' Bilbo had been given looks of disbelief but he ignored them in favor of stifling a smile. Gandalf, despite everything, was a friend and he took care of friends to the best of his abilities. Still, he would like to cause _some _grief for the wizard and pulled out some paper before he started writing.

After writing his piece Bilbo looked over to see his son playing with older kits, not really understanding what all the fuss was about but still bouncing up and down on his space on the grass. As if feeling his gaze, Frodo looked over and gave a half formed wave before sticking his fist into his mouth to suckle on, looking entirely like a chipmunk with chubby cheeks.

Bilbo cooed silently over him from afar just as a rather young hobbit lass entered the dining room to place a large dish of what looked to be various types of sausages on the table with a satisfied smile. "Ah, Gem Cotton, just the hobbitess I wanted to see!"

"And what would Bilbo Baggins need from little ole me?" Gem asked with a teasing lilt to her pretty voice.

Gem had always been a beautiful little thing with her ginger curls that fell down her back in a chaotic storm and long lashes framing big green eyes, a color that was rare among the hobbits. She had all the looks a lass could ever want for, with perfect skin and rosy cheeks and even better was her good and humble personality. Unfortunately, from what he could remember, Gem was the adventurous sort and that didn't go to well for the hobbit lads that on every other day drooled over her. Which was a shame really because if he were any other reckless and young hobbit boy, he would have swooped in on Gem Cotton without a thought. As it were he was Bilbo Baggins and Gem Cotton had never seemingly existed in his previous life-something he often wondered about- and he thought of her as a younger sibling.

"About my guests...I need someone to make sure they are feed the next morn and seeing as _you _make _the best _pancakes in all of the Shire I was wondering if you were up to the task?" He asked not above buttering up to anyone.

"Well, I wouldn't say _the best..."_ She trailed off with pink cheeks but eventually narrowed her eyes. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing Bilbo Baggins! Shame on you!"

He smiled cheekily as she swatted at his head playfully. "Come on, little Gem." He whined throwing on his best puppy face causing her to laugh.

"You look absolutely ridiculous." She snickered, attempting to pull his own face on him. "But I'll do it." She conceded with another falsely violent swat at him.

With everything set up for his guests Bilbo had been all prepared to leave. While he still felt his guilt weighing down on him, it was lighter knowing that he had done as much as he could for his old friends but his child came first and so with as much flourish as he could pulled out his note and tossed it in the air and with a movement so fluid it looked to be but a blur, a glint of silver tore through the air with a quiet whistle and pierced the parchment before dragging it back to the wall to stick with a light thud.

The bounder beside him looked quite impressed, sparking a warm flame of pride within him. It had taken him months to be so proficient with his daggers, night and day he obsessed over being able to throw with accuracy. It was why the small thin daggers were so light and balanced, they weren't made for dealing damage but rather for accuracy and speed so that opponents could be disarmed or knocked out rather than killed. Though that could also happen if the daggers were aimed in the right place.

Halefror's eyes scanned over the note and quirked a brow but did not say anything as Bilbo pulled his child on his hip. "Ready sweetheart?" He asked Frodo with soft eyes. He was doing this for his son, he was turning his back for his son. Those words becoming his mantra.

Frodo answered with a gurgle before pulling on a brown almost blonde curl to stuff in his mouth, it was obvious his son had an oral fixation that he hoped would go away soon. He didn't need Frodo putting a dagger in his mouth, or something of equal danger.

A look was given to both his cousins and the bounder as they mounted their ponies and disappeared into the night just as a single lost dwarf stood at the first stone step of Bag-End.


End file.
